


Reality Forged

by Entireoranges



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Gen, Post Season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 17:52:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19408339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entireoranges/pseuds/Entireoranges
Summary: At his mother's funeral a boy gets an unexpected and confusing visit.





	Reality Forged

**Author's Note:**

> Let me begin by saying before its read that this piece has errors. The characters feel off and even with a fantasy genre I'm stretching what should and shouldn't be possible. Still despite all that I hope the work is at least decent. Also uses the prompt "It's a big world to face all alone."

"Are you alright?" Another hand pressed into his shoulder, a sympathetic tone, someone desperate to help when in truth he only sought to be left alone; perhaps forever. His eyes don't turn away from the elaborate casket decorated with flowers, he was wise enough to demand roses be excluded. All of this roses or not was too much and nothing she would have wanted. Grandfather told him things such this are done more for the comfort of the others, the public she served with kindness and swift sword when it called for such acts. Despite what grandfather said she'd hate all of this and for her he'd hate it too. He grumbles kicking the stone floor, the person is still behind him, hand remains on his shoulder though its simply resting and nothing more.

"Leave me." He mumbles. He doesn't care to listen to another 'i'm so sorry.' 'you poor child.' or even the 'the gods have her now." That was the worst. He didn't want to Gods to have her. He wanted her. Still needed her. The casket becomes blurry in his vision and it takes him a moment to understand why. Tears. He had cried, wept like a baby three days prior when Grandfather awoke him from slumber, saying simply there was a horrible accident and she was gone. She deserved to die on the battlefield, slaying the enemies, not from a fall off a horse because the stupid creature got spooked by thunder. He now feels the wetness on his cheeks.

"She'd be pissed." The stranger says with almost a laughter.

"Why? That I'm so weak?" He knew even without his face able to be seen there were more then enough signs he was barely handling himself. He had be strong.

"What? Gods no. That a horse did her in." He turns slowly to face the man, he had seen him a few times in the village. He owned one of the fish shops? It wasn't the fact he couldn't understand why a random vendor was heaping upon him so much attention, rather that seemed able to read his mind.

"Yeah. She would." He twists back to a proper position and continues staring at the casket, the vendor joins him on the bench.

"It's okay if you're not okay.' A shrug. 'My mom died when I was a bit younger then you. I tried to pretend that it was just a part of life and to move on. Put a brave face on for my family, especially my father who wa..."

"My father is dead." 

"Yes, of course.' No sympathy with that one, his father being dead was a fact even prior to his birth. 'Perhaps you are trying to be brave for your grandfather?" Another shrug.

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Don't. Don't hide your emotions no matter what they are. I made that mistake. Not just with my mother but with some many things. Your grandfather is fair man....and...." The vendor stops speaking, now staring deeply at the boy.

"What?"

"I wish I had made better decisions in my life. I wish I had been there for her. And for you now." His words are rushed, eyes moving rapidly mainly looking towards the half open door, sounds of other mourners seeping in.

"What are you talking about? You knew my mother? You know me? I don't remember ever speaking to you prior to now of course." He stands up, taking a step away and closer to his mother or what once had been her.

"Yes. No...it's complicated. I have to go now. If you see me again I make no mention of this conversation do not take it personal. Just keep in your memory how much I love you." With that, mind still whirling at a weak attempt to make sense of even a fraction of anything the vendor stands up, runs towards the door on the other side, just as his septa enters through the closer one, eyes red from her own crying. He wants to rush after the man, but something deep within tells him to stay.

Jaime gasps. As his eyes flash open looking straight at Bran, or the person holding the presence of Bran.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"You are correct I didn't. But I remember what it was like to lose a parent. Parents. The feeling of being alone." Jaime nods, knowing his family were responsible for those deaths.

"I wish I cou..."

"No." The words felt like an invisible blade across the flesh.

"I know. I've accepted my fate. I am always to be considered a dead man. Still..."

"Sympathy and feeling sorry for ones self does no good. Your son is a fine boy. He'll be a fine man without you." That coming from Bran's knowledge cryptic as it always was left a small sense of comfort on Jaime.

"Perhaps I could see him again?" The man sitting across the table slams his fist down upon it.

"No! Do you not understand how complicated and deadly even shifting into another can be without the proper trai..."

"I did it once! Just give me that potion again!" He had not plan to become this emotional, almost angry. He suspects seeing his child for the first time and only for minutes was almost too hard to handle.

"I said no! And if you don't control yourself I might stop these visits and you'll forever be cut off and alone!" Jaime was not ever and never would be a fan of Bran, in any form he choose to present himself in, but he appreciated these visits, small grasps of life he no longer was privy to experience. Life here on Sothoryos was barely a life; if one at all.

"Forgive me.' The Bran vessel nods. 'You promise he's good? That he'll be okay?"

"Yes. He has all the qualities of his mother' He pauses smirking 'and only the best from you. Granted it's not a lot but he makes it work."

"Very funny. And thank you once more for allowing me this."

"I need to be going now Jaime."

"Don't be a stranger. Also if you have the opportunity to visit Tarth for yourself there a young Evenstar who would very excited to see the King."

"I already plan on it. Brienne deserves nothing less then my fullest respect." The man sitting in front of him stands and without a word leaves the room. And Jaime knows he once more alone in a reality he helped forge by his own stupidity. Thousands of miles away from his own blood who believed he truly was an orphan.

"You better be right. My son better be okay." Jaime says to the empty chair before standing to pour himself his nightly wine.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah basically Jaime never died but for some reason he has to live in complete exile and Bran occasionally visits him via shapeshifting abilities and all that.


End file.
